


show me your heart

by SerpentineJ



Category: Money Game (Korea TV)
Genre: Heo Jae Didn't Kill Anyone AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentineJ/pseuds/SerpentineJ
Summary: Heo Jae is his usual self – egotistic and uncompromising. He treats his subordinates politically, for the most part, in a way that makes Yihyun increasingly baffled about the way he and Lee Hyejoon have seemingly taken to each other.
Relationships: Heo Jae/Chae Yihyun
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	show me your heart

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: au heochae where heo jae didnt kill yihyuns dad and theyre just .... kinda weird.. picking up a little bit after the time lee hyejoon came to heo jae with the info of someone on the team being a mole for eugene

Yihyun is accustomed to waiting for Heo Jae.

He taps the table with one finger. The glass of water he’d fetched when he had first arrived is half-empty and lukewarm, beads of condensation already trickling down the outside of the thin metal. The lunch rush is just ending, the tables emptying of customers – the woman running cashier gives him an odd look, her short hair tucked out of the way behind her ears. 

It’s the embodiment of the things he doesn’t like about the DPM. An egocism that lends itself to a lack of consideration of others. A self-righteousness that allows him to cast away his subordinates and his superiors without a moment of consideration, under the excuse of following his ideals.

The bell above the door rings. Heo Jae comes in just as the last customers are leaving.

Yihyun inclines his head but doesn’t stand as Heo Jae approaches the table. Heo Jae doesn’t even seem to notice – he doesn’t offer an apology for his tardiness, just sets his own cup of water down and takes a seat, peering at the menu on the opposite wall.

“Excuse me,” he says, signalling to the cashier. “Can I have a bowl of noodles?”

“I’ll have the same,” Yihyun says, not particularly caring what he eats. Heo Jae turns his gaze back to him. 

“Coming,” the woman says, giving Yihyun a newly-sympathetic look. Discontent bubbles under his skin. He represses it.

Heo Jae doesn’t say anything. The room is empty aside from them. Yihyun resists the urge to fidget in his chair, his gaze trained somewhere on the table behind Heo Jae as Heo Jae gets his own spoon and chopsticks.

“How is the Tobin tax cleanup coming along?” Heo Jae says, breaking the silence. He lays his utensils on a napkin, perfectly straightened. He’s fussy like that. It’s just another aspect that makes the DPM so unapproachable.

“It’s fine.” Yihyun says, keeping his hands in his lap. “The bill didn’t pass in time to catch Bahama’s sale of Jungin Bank, but since we’ve already taken the hit to our international investment ratio, we’re keeping it in rotation to decrease the amount of speculative capital that Korea has been the victim of. It will probably pass with the next round of bills.”

“Okay.” Heo Jae says. He exhales. He must be busy. Yihyun isn’t exactly sympathetic.

“Was there another reason you wanted to meet with me today?” Yihyun asks, quietly bringing up his real question. From what he knows of Heo Jae, if he’s not working or surrounded by yes-men, he prefers to be alone. There’s no reason for him to have specifically requested Yihyun come to him.

“It’s about Eugene Han.” Heo Jae says. Yihyun’s jaw tics.

“Two noodles,” the woman says, pulling a cart up to their table, empty except for their orders. The soup sloshes in the bowl as she sets them on the table. Yihyun waits until she’s left to speak.

“What about him?” He says, his tone polite. Heo Jae picks up his utensils to eat. “From what I’ve heard, now that he’s sold Jungin Bank, he’s leaving Korea for a while.”

“That’s what I mean.” Heo Jae says, pausing to take a bite. Yihyun follows him and dips his spoon into the broth. “Assuming he’s not leaving forever, I want to make sure there aren’t any of his influences left in the MOEF.”

“You’re talking about people under his control.” Yihyun says. Heo Jae shrugs.

“It’s something to be careful about.” He says. “Even if we do ally with him again, him having inside sources of information in our organization can only be a detriment to us.”

“Us?” Yihyun says, pausing to look up at Heo Jae. Heo Jae doesn’t meet his gaze. “I never partnered with Eugene Han.”

And if you do, I won’t be there, he almost says, but that’s a little too direct even for this situation. Even if it’s true. Heo Jae seems to pick up on the subtext anyways.

“Well, either way.” He says, finishing his noodles. “It can only benefit our position to reduce Eugene’s influence.”

He’s a fast eater when he wants to be. Maybe it comes from rushed meals between meetings. Yihyun is barely halfway finished with his meal.

“That’s all I wanted to talk about.” Heo Jae says, showing no sign he’s taken Yihyun’s rebuff seriously, setting his chopsticks across the metal bowl with a clicking sound. He dabs at his mouth with a napkin and stands. “I’ll pay, so take your time.”

He’s gone before Yihyun can even speak. It’s his ego again. Even if it’s a neccesity for invoking a change in Korea’s economy, Yihyun thinks, returning to his bowl of noodles with an edge of a vengeance, it’s not a suitable trait for someone in a position of power. 

\--

The moment Heo Jae is happiest is when he returns home.

His apartment is empty. Exactly the way he had left it. The warm lighting glows to life as he flicks the wall switch, welcoming him back to his own space – the only place in the world where he has complete control. He feels the tension drain from his shoulders as he shuts the door behind him.

He’s not against silence – in fact, he’s partial to it – but he turns the TV to the news channel in the living room as he hangs his coat in the hall closet and moves to his bedroom, exchanging the starched dress shirt and slacks that feel like heavy armor for the beige sweaters he prefers at home. The news anchor’s voice is a muted blur, barely penetrating his senses through his own thoughts.

Increasingly, in his precious time alone, Chae Yihyun has been occupying his mind.

He’s not entirely sure why he had invited Yihyun to lunch. He had run late because of his previous meeting, and barely made it to his next arrangement in time, despite his hardworking driver’s best efforts. The instructions he had given could easily have fit into a phone call, or an email.

He had wanted to spend time with him. He had wanted to buy him a meal, even under the pretense of business arrangements.

The thought, surprisingly, doesn’t meet as much internal resistance as he had thought it would. What Heo Jae feels is mostly resignation. Subconsciously, he’s known for a while – that he, at the very least, admires Yihyun. At more than that, his admiration becomes something completely inappropriate, especially towards his subordinate.

He shuts his closet door. Preparing food gives his hands something to do as his thoughts run. 

It’s something that can never be. Him having those kinds of thoughts in the first place is just another representation of his ever-present weakness, Heo Jae thinks to himself, spooning some rice into a bowl. As Yihyun gets closer to him, it becomes harder and harder to keep himself in check. Yihyun knows his egotistical side well – almost too well – which is what makes him such an efficient second-in-command, but if Heo Jae were to allow him anywhere past that, things would quickly become dangerous. The ever-present temptation makes him all the more resolute to steel himself against that sin.

If he were to show weakness, Yihyun would hate him even more than he already does. The only reason he stands by Heo Jae’s side is because of Heo Jae’s obsessive vision. Yihyun’s loyalty is to a better economic future, not to Heo Jae specifically – if Heo Jae were to falter in front of him, Yihyun would surely cast him aside.

\--

“Come in,” Heo Jae says, to a knock on his door. Lee Hyejoon enters and shuts the door behind her. He looks up in surprise. “What brings you by?”

She bows to him. Heo Jae gestures for her to take a seat and stands up from his desk, moving around the table to sit in the armchair at the head of the arrangement of couches.

“I wanted to provide an update about the mole on the Tobin tax team.” She says, as bluntly as ever. It’s something that had been remarkable to him since she had asked him that question in his seminar, ages ago. She’s not lacking in emotion – she’s driven by something else, but it’s badly interpreted by the people around her, earning her a reputation for being stubborn and difficult to work with.

He feels oddly comfortable around her. He doesn’t know why, since she’s a more upstanding civil servant than he’s ever been.

“Did something happen?” He asks.

“I gave both of the suspects false information,” she says, as though she’s talking about having maintenance on her television. “They both seemed to believe me. I haven’t approached Eugene Han about it.”

Heo Jae smiles at her.

It must be unsettling. It’s a gentle smile, unlike any of the ones he shows to coworkers or superiors or subordinates or anyone. Lee Hyejoon doesn’t judge him for it.

“And you’re alright about it?” He asks. “Suspecting your superiors. Ones who you’ve worked with.”

She shifts in her seat.

“I don’t think Director Chae is equipped to handle it right now.” She says, making eye contact with him. He sees his own thoughts reflected in her eyes. Fondness for her starts to bubble in his chest, unchecked. “And I know he would try to stop me if I told him about it, but if this is a possible reality, then I want to uncover the truth about it.”

She pauses.

“And...” She continues, after a breath, a slight shudder coming out of her chest, “I know people think I’m cold for it, or have no sympathy. But it’s something I can’t accept. Especially from people I’ve worked closely with.”

He leans back in his seat. 

“I think I understand what you mean,” he says, an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face – Hyejoon looks at him, and he recognizes the weariness of someone who’s been told they’re wrong by everyone around them. She reminds him of his younger self. He hopes she doesn’t turn out like him. “You never waver, do you, Ms. Lee.”

She takes in a shuddering breath. He blinks in surprise – but he shouldn’t be, he realizes after a moment. She’s still a level-five. She’s not even out of her 20s. The amount of responsibility must be crushing, no matter how strong she seems.

“Because I’m afraid,” she chokes, visibly struggling to compose herself, as though she can’t stop the words from spilling from her mouth. “I’m afraid of what could happen. Of not being prepared.”

A single tear drips down her face. Heo Jae, shock and uncertainty coursing through him, barely has the presence of mind to awkwardly offer her a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry.” She gets out, wiping her face almost frustratedly with the offered tissue. She’s already slamming the lid on her overwhelming terror, her body shutting down her emotional response – Heo Jae wants to reassure her but can’t find the words. He’s never been the most approachable senior. He’s never dealt with a junior like this, but he finds himself not wanting her to close herself to the world again.

He finds himself, oddly enough, wanting to share his own fears with her.

Maybe that’s a signal that he’s grown.

“It’s alright.” He says, instead of anything else, hesitancy choking his words like clinging vines, growing in the darkness. “That... doesn’t change, even as you age.”

\--  
“Were you in a meeting?” Yihyun asks, making small talk as he stirs creamer into his coffee. Hyejoon has her hands clasped around a mug of tea. She’s composed herself since Heo Jae’s office, and the warmth of the drink soothes the trembling in her fingers.

“I was in the DPM’s office.” She says, taking a sip. Yihyun looks up.

“The DPM?” He says, his hands stilling. “Did he need something?”

She shakes her head.

“I only went to give him an update on something he asked me to do,” she says – something that’s not technically a lie. 

Yihyun frowns. Curiosity fills him, welling near the rim like the coffee in his cup, staining his insides. He knows better than to pry – it wouldn’t be polite, and Hyejoon would tell him if she wanted to – but that doesn’t stop the feeling.

“And he was free?” He says instead. “The DPM has been busy lately.”

She fiddles with her mug.

“He talked to me for a while, so I suppose,” she says.

It’s odd behavior for Heo Jae. It doesn’t settle well with the object of Heo Jae in Yihyun’s perception. The mismatch bothers him, like a picture slightly out of focus, a document whose pages aren’t precisely aligned. 

The feeling sits poorly in his chest.

\--

When Yihyun sees Heo Jae, later that day, he doesn’t seem any different. They have a meeting with one of the Cabinet members about policies for the next quarter that Heo Jae wants to implement. Yihyun is distracted through the whole meeting, trying to find holes to poke in Heo Jae’s seemingly normal mood.

“Director Chae?” The Cabinet member says. His attention is jerked back to the real world. Heo Jae is looking at him, a blankly pleasant expression on his face, the one he uses when he meets with people who he needs to like him.

“Ah,” Yihyun says, feeling a flush of embarrassment rising to his ears unbidden. It’s unlike him, and doubly so that the unwitting focus of his attention is Heo Jae, of all people. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“He asked about the MOEF’s plans for the next quarter,” Heo Jae says, no hints of anything but a social geniality in his voice. Yihyun forces his attention to the task at hand, instead of where it wants to stray to. 

“Oh,” Yihyun says. “The MOEF’s official stance is that...”

The meeting passes with little fanfare, and even less advancement.

Heo Jae sighs when gets in the car, letting his head fall back against the seatrest. It’s the only expression of weakness that Yihyun has seen through the entire meeting. He watches Heo Jae hesitantly, caught between propriety and curiosity.

Heo Jae’s driver starts the car.

“Is everything alright, Director Chae?” Heo Jae says, without opening his eyes. “You seemed distracted at the meeting.”

Yihyun stiffens.

“I was... curious about something.” He says, unable to hold himself back. “Did you meet with Lee Hyejoon today, sir?”

Heo Jae looks at him with surprise, his head whipping towards him. A suspicious response. It does nothing to quell the confusion swirling in Yihyun’s chest.

“Did she say something to you?” He says.

“Not particularly.” Yihyun replies, retreating into a professional tone, something oddly like uncertainty taking control of him. “I was only wondering about it.”

Heo Jae sighs and turns his gaze back to window. Yihyun can barely see the edge of the reflection of his face in the glass.

It’s a side of Heo Jae that Yihyun hasn’t seen much of. He’s seen the man at his strongest, and seen him break out in anger over the strength of his ideals – all representations of his seemingly unshakeable ego – but he’s hardly seen him like this. As though he’s holding something back.

“Are you,” Yihyun asks, overtaken, his heart rate picking up almost imperceptibly, “alright?”

Heo Jae takes the question like a blow.

“I’m well enough,” he replies, in a tone that leaves no room for Yihyun to probe further.

\--

A few days pass. Heo Jae is his usual self – egotistic and uncompromising. He treats his subordinates politically, for the most part, in a way that makes Yihyun increasingly baffled about the way he and Lee Hyejoon have seemingly taken to each other.

And they have. It’s late at night – the office is mostly empty – Yihyun is only there to finish some last-minute paperwork. He flips through the sheafs of paper, and nothing jumps out at him until one does. A document that needs the DPM’s signature. It must have been forgotten when he had sorted the papers to send to Heo Jae’s office earlier in the day.

There’s a slowly-cooling cup of coffee on Hyejoon’s desk. The white ceramic contrasts with its black contents. He pauses on his way out, taking note of it. Her monitor is still on, and her coat and bag are still at her desk, thick gray wool hanging heavily on the back of her chair, but the Level 5 is nowhere to be seen.

Moving on, he takes the elevator to Heo Jae’s office.

The hallway is dark. He must have sent his secretary home already. The glow of his office light is visible through the crack in his door. Yihyun raises his hand to knock, but the sound of voices inside makes him pause, the paper held loosely in his grip.

“... a similar feeling, when I was your age,” Heo Jae says, his voice floating out past the door. Yihyun freezes. There’s an almost kind depth to Heo Jae’s tone. It’s terrifying in its unfamiliarity. “None of my seniors listened to me, and I had no juniors to help me. So I want to help you.”

Lee Hyejoon makes a sound like she’s smiling.

“Thank you, sir,” she says.

“An old man told me recently that the thing that makes you suffer is passion,” Heo Jae says, with laughter and resignation and torment layering his voice – Yihyun’s heart starts to race in the darkness, even though he’s not doing anything but listening, even though he can’t see the DPM’s face – “and that if you fall too deeply, you’ll become self-righteous. I’m still struggling with that.”

“...but it’s hard to let go.” Hyejoon says, in a tone of complete, painful understanding. “Because it’s terrifying that if you do, you won’t be prepared when something happens.”

Heo Jae makes a huffing sound like a laugh.

“I should’ve expected it from someone who grew up during the IMF crisis,” he says, with a creaking sound, like he’s leaning forward in his chair. “I like you, Ms. Lee. It won’t be easy to stop your doubts from compromising your principles, but I hope this will be your office someday.”

“I couldn’t dream of that,” Hyejoon says, but her voice makes it clear that if that’s what’s needed, she’ll do it – outside, Yihyun’s hand is shaking, the edge of the paper trembling in the sliver of light leaking from the cracked door.

“It’s already dark.” Heo Jae says suddenly. “I didn’t mean to keep you this late.”

“It’s alright.” Hyejoon says. Yihyun is almost envious of how casually they speak to one another, until he realizes that Hyejoon is standing up, a shuffling sound that sends a bolt of fear into the soles of his feet. He’s not sure why he’s afraid, but the idea of being caught listening in on that conversation makes his stomach roil. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

Yihyun, as silently as he can, bolts for the stairs.

\--

The next morning, the paper he needed signed by Heo Jae is still sitting on his desk. It seems like it’s mocking him. His feelings about the DPM are in disarray.

He could send it with his secretary, but something stops him. He wants to ask Heo Jae about what he had said last night. He can’t, but he wants to. 

He wants to know more about Heo Jae.

The thought hits him like a freight train – his mental image of the DPM is crumbling, bit by bit. The egotistical superior who Yihyun has known so well is only one side of his facade. He feels like he had felt yesterday, completely in the dark, creeping towards the sliver of golden light that had carried Heo Jae’s voice towards him, soft and layered and completely human. A Heo Jae who experiences fear. A side of him that he refuses, for some reason, to show to Yihyun.

\--

“Come in,” Heo Jae says. Yihyun lets himself in. He bows slightly – Heo Jae puts down his pen. “What brings you here?”

Yihyun makes his way up to his desk – he hands Heo Jae the sheet of paper, fingers of one hand lightly touched to his extended elbow, the epitome of politeness, but when Heo Jae looks up at him, Yihyun’s gaze almost makes him choke. His eyes bore holes into him. Heo Jae wonders, briefly, if he’s done something wrong, to be the recipient of such an intense look. Especially when Yihyun usually regards him with professionalism.

“I forgot to send this with my secretary yesterday,” he says, quietly. Heo Jae breaks eye contact with no small effort and glances over the document.

“Ah,” he says, skimming the words on the page, avoiding meeting Yihyun’s eye. “Why didn’t you just send it with your secretary today? You must be busy.”

Yihyun doesn’t speak for a moment. Heo Jae, against his better instinct, looks at him again. Yihyun’s gaze has dimmed in its intensity – he almost looks confused, or uncertain, or hesitant, which is utterly baffling. Heo Jae doesn’t know what he’s done to elicit such a response from a simple question.

Heo Jae sets down the paper.

“Did you need something?” He says. Concern wells up in him, against his better judgement.

Yihyun seems to shake himself out of it.

“It’s nothing.” He says, awkwardly, his fingers smoothing over the button of his suit as if to calm his nerves. 

Heo Jae looks at him oddly.

\--

“Deputy prime minister,” the Director General of the Future and Social Economy Bureau says. He’s leaning forward onto the meeting table, one hand spread firmly on the wooden surface in his eagerness to get his point across. “This plan will severely impact our social economy policy division –“

“It’s something that needs to be done.” Heo Jae says, steepling his fingers and looking at the man with a cool gaze. “I’m sure you understand that.”

“I do, but... to this degree?” the Director says. He taps his fingers against the table, once, then leans back in his chair. “I can’t accept this.”

“It’s not up to you to accept it.” Heo Jae says, his tone inviting no argument. “It’s up to you to implement it, and explain to your people why it’s a good idea.”

“It’s too risky!” The Director exclaims, forgetting himself for a moment. He jabs the paper with one finger. “It’s almost as insane as manipulating the BIS ratio! Do you really trust Chae Yihyun that much?!”

Heo Jae’s glare turns icy.

“What do you mean by that?” He says. The Deputy turns pale, but continues, not one to back away from a statement he’d made. 

“There’s rumors going around the MOEF that he’s your man for the moment,” he says stubbornly, his grip tightening on the armrest of the chair. “That he’s using you to climb the ladder quickly, and then he’ll abandon you, so you should be careful –“

“I trust Chae Yihyun 100%.” Heo Jae says, with a voice of frozen steel. His eyes send chills down the Director’s spine. “I don’t know who’s been talking, but I would recommend you tell them not to.”

The Director diverts his gaze with a jerk of his head.

“And,” Heo Jae continues, pushing the paper with the plan’s outline towards him again, his voice still as chilly as a wind from the Himalayas, “I personally participated in the development of this plan. I believe it will work.”

The Director takes the papers. They nearly crumple with the force of his grip.

“Yes, sir.” He gets out.

As soon as he leaves Heo Jae’s office, he makes a beeline for the elevator – he jabs the button for floor 4 with his thumb, the plan crinkling in his fist.

“Director General?” Chae Yihyun says, surprised, when the Director bursts into his office without so much of a knock. He stands, one hand trailing along the top of his desk. “What brings you-“

“What in the world did you do to the DPM?!” The Director says.

Yihyun blinks.

“Excuse me?” He says.

The Director thrusts the plan he had sent to Heo Jae in his face.

“I don’t know what you did for the DPM, or what you have over him,” he says, his voice almost shaking, “that you’ve got him completely on your side, and he’s forcing me to accept this plan. But it’s completely unacceptable.”

Yihyun frowns. He hadn’t thought it would be a point of contention.

“If the plan is unacceptable to you, we can revise it after taking your comments.” He says, peering at the sheet. “I thought it was fine, but if it’s going to impact one of your divisions, we can go over it again.”

“Of course it is!” The Director huffs.

“But... what did the DPM say to you? To bring you all the way here?” Yihyun continues, looking back at the Director, who suddenly looks awkward, fidgeting in place.

“I just thought...” He mutters. “People are saying you must have some kind of special relationship. Since he clearly prefers your division. And when I advised him against this plan, all he told me was that he trusts you 100%.”

Yihyun’s eyebrows rise up his forehead.

“He said that?” He says, his stomach doing an unexpected flip, 

“I thought it was weird too.” The Director says, folding his arms defensively. “That’s why I figured...”

“That I was bribing him?” Yihyun says, deadpan.

“No!” He says hotly, embarrassment rising to his face. “I thought you were organizing Chae Byunghak’s supporters to support him, or something.”

Yihyun chuckles.

“My father’s supporters were mostly free-market believers.” He says. “He and DPM Heo’s opinions were as far apart as can be.”

Even after the Director leaves, his words linger in Yihyun’s head.

Trust.

It isn’t something he ever thought Heo Jae would have for him. Yihyun fiddles distractedly with his pen at his desk, tapping it against his papers and spinning it around his thumb, his thoughts as far away from official work as possible, and closer to the office on the 5th floor, where the DPM is sitting. 

\--

“Director Chae?” Hyejoon says, in the middle of giving him her report. He’s still not completely focused. He looks up at her.

“Yes?” He says. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. Could you repeat that?”

Hyejoon looks at him. She’s very perceptive. 

“Are you okay?” She says, speaking a little more casually. She’s opened up to him a little more, which makes Yihyun happy, but apparently not nearly as much as she has to Heo Jae. “It’s just that... you seem a little distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says, out of instinct. He pauses. “Actually, I’m not fine.”

“Is there something wrong?” Hyejoon says.

He looks at her.

“Ms. Lee, are you... close with the DPM?” He asks.

Hyejoon’s thin eyebrows jump up her face.

“I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close,” she says, folding her hands in front of her. “But why...?”

“It’s only that...” Yihyun sighs, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words. “You seem closer to him than me. I thought I knew him fairly well, but I’ve been re-thinking that assumption lately.”

“The DPM isn’t a very complicated person.” Hyejoon says, as blunt as always. 

“I think you’re the only one who would say that, Ms. Lee,” Yihyun chuckles.

“No, I mean it.” Hyejoon says stubbornly. Her mouth pinches like it does when there’s a point she’s particularly set on. “And I do think you know him well. I just think you’re a little... close-minded when it comes to him, Director Chae.”

“Close-minded?’ He says, surprised. “Like with Eugene Han?”

Hyejoon inclines her head, slightly uncomfortable.

“You can speak freely.” Yihyun says, because he doesn’t have any friends he can ask about this, and he truly wants to know her thoughts. As someone who’s heard Heo Jae’s weaknesses straight from his mouth. He’s almost jealous.

“DPM Heo is...” She says, trailing off, tilting her head to the side slightly. “Not a bad person. He’s only someone who’s used to playing a losing battle.”

“A losing battle?” Yihyun says.

“I think you think of the DPM as someone who’s unbreakable,” Hyejoon continues, choosing her words carefully, her sharp intellect showing through with every simple observation. “Who naturally does what he thinks is right, without regard for anyone else, and doesn’t question himself at all. But there’s no one in the world like that.”

Yihyun frowns. He looks down at his hands, folded loosely over his desktop. Hyejoon is right – that’s how he used to think of Heo Jae – but there’s a complex web of doubt swirling in his mind now, about whether anything he had thought about Heo Jae was true at all.

“The DPM is like that, to an extent.” Hyejoon says, quietly, as though revealing something personal, and Yihyun starts – suddenly, Hyejoon reminds him of Heo Jae in demeanor and in process, both of them hiding their doubt from the world and being called cold for it. “But I think he wants to prove himself more than anyone else. And that’s why he’s so desperate to succeed.”

Yihyun’s grip on his pen tightens. He suddenly wants to ask Heo Jae himself. 

“Thank you, Ms. Lee,” he says, dropping his pen and laying his hands flat on his desk, looking up at her. His hair catches the light of the setting sun through his office window, brown and golden around the edges. “Can you give me the rest of your report tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she says, “but why were you asking about DPM Heo?”

Yihyun bites his lip.

“I’m not sure.” He says. “But I want to find out.”

He doesn’t leave until he’s finished with his work for the day – God forbid he slack from his duties – so by the time he puts his overcoat on and turns off his laptop, the sun has already set outside. The blue-grey of the city seeps in from every opening. He gets into his car and turns the headlights on, and his hands slowly but surely take him to Heo Jae’s building instead of home.

Through the whole elevator ride, he clenches and relaxes his hands. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to do when he rings the doorbell – all he knows is that Heo Jae is there, and he desperately wants to talk to him.

“Director Chae?” Heo Jae says, surprise evident in his voice. He’s wearing a cream-colored sweater, and his hair just barely falls over his forehead. At home, he seems domestic and approachable. It makes Yihyun’s breathing stutter. “What brings you by?”

Yihyun bows.

“Can I... come in?” He says, hating how his low voice betrays how much he wants to speak to him. 

Heo Jae doesn’t rebuff him. Instead, he opens the door with an odd expression on his face, as though he wants to talk to Yihyun and doesn’t at the same time.

“Would you like a drink?” Heo Jae says, closing the door behind him. There’s no guest slippers at Heo Jae’s apartment, so Yihyun takes off his shoes and steps into the room with his socks. The offer is seriously tempting, but Yihyun thinks that if he goes into it with less than a clear head, he might really mess something up, so he shakes his head.

“No thank you,” he says.

“Tea, then.” Heo Jae says, moving to the kitchen. Yihyun takes a seat quietly at Heo Jae’s table. Heo Jae’s voice drifts over from the kitchen, over the soft clinking sounds of his delicate china set. “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

“Is it,” Yihyun says, slowly, his gaze fixed on the table before him, looking at the tops of his knees through the thin slats, “inappropriate for a subordinate to come here for... non-work related matters?”

In the kitchen, Heo Jae stills.

“That depends on what the matter is.” He says, after a moment, resuming his movements. Yihyun can’t see, but his hand is shaking minutely as he pours hot water from the electric kettle into the teapot. 

“I wanted to know if you trust me,” Yihyun says, honestly. Heo Jae returns to the table, holding a tray of tea that smells fragrant and expensive. He quietly sets one cup in front of Yihyun and the second one at his own place, taking a seat on the floor.

“What brings that question up?” He says.

“The Director General of the Policy Coordination Bureau came to see me,” Yihyun begins.

“That jerk.” Heo Jae mutters. Yihyun looks at him with surprise. Heo Jae composes himself, lacing his fingers together. “What about him?”

“Out of the things he said, he told me that you said you trusted me,” Yihyun continues, not one to be deterred from his path once he’s set out on it. For some reason, it’s important for him to find out why Heo Jae is so insistent on pulling this part of himself away from him specifically. He wants to know, and he wants to know Heo Jae, and he thinks he wants to do other things to Heo Jae that   
are terrifying and unfamiliar. He’s tired of beating around the bush and feeling uncertain. 

“And?” Heo Jae says, stubborn until the end. He puts distance between himself and the conversation by reaching between them to pour tea that’s been steeping for exactly three minutes. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have appointed you as Director.”

“Do you trust Lee Hyejoon more than me?” Yihyun presses, ignoring the tea. Heo Jae jerks in surprise.

“Has she been telling you everything?” He snaps bitterly, his control fraying. Around Yihyun, Heo Jae seems more likely to break towards anger instead of doubt. It’s a defense mechanism that has succeeded in pushing Yihyun away before. Now that he knows there’s something beneath it, Yihyun is loathe to be denied.

“No.” He says, shifting on his knees. “I overheard her in your office one night.”

Heo Jae grits his teeth. He takes a sip of tea to disguise his nerves, but his hand is trembling.

“How much did you hear?” He says, his tone clipped. Yihyun frowns.

“Not much, but that’s not the point.” He says, frustration coloring his voice. He tries to address Heo Jae, but he doesn’t even know what to call him – the emotions that are spilling out from him are not those of a subordinate towards his superior, or even of a coworker towards another coworker. He wants to know more about Heo Jae. He wants to break through Heo Jae’s facade, and he wants something more, and he doesn’t know what he wants, only that it’s not this. “You have a burden. Why won’t you share it with me?”

Heo Jae makes eye contact with him. His gaze is unexpectedly wretched.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says. His voice is quiet, as though Yihyun’s insistence pains him. 

“I don’t care.” Yihyun says stubbornly. He’s reckless as though he’s had liquor, even though he’s completely sober. The heady sense of wanting intoxicates him. Even though he doesn’t know him as well as he had thought, his heart has apparently decided it’s set on Heo Jae, and no one else, and Yihyun has never been one to deny what his heart wants. “Please tell me.”

“Because it’s you!” Heo Jae replies, his jaw clenching, fingers ticking around his half-emptied teacup, breathing shakily. He almost seems angry, but Yihyun can see him more clearly now than he had been able to before. He can see Heo Jae’s desperation. “Would you be satisfied to have a weak man lead you into battle?”

“Yes, if it were you.” Yihyun says. Heo Jae laughs before he can help himself. It sounds like it hurts his throat. Yihyun, not about to be rebuffed, continues, leaning forward across the table. “I thought you were more unfit to lead as a power-hungry egotist. I would like to revise my opinion.”

“And if my weakness extended to you?” Heo Jae says, as though that would be the last nail in the coffin of Yihyun’s argument. As though Yihyun would turn away in disgust. As though he’s holding some kind of self-hatred trump card. Every line in his face is conflicted, and Yihyun suddenly realizes what he means, and his responding desire is so strong it sweeps his heart into his throat and pushes him forward across the table, almost knocking over his teacup with his palm planted on the table, to catch Heo Jae’s face in his cupped hand and press his lips to the other man’s.

Heo Jae chokes with shock. Yihyun is constantly surprising him. 

Heo Jae, when provoked, is a weak man – he kisses Yihyun with fervor, as though he’s wanted for him and thought about it. Yihyun pours his whirlwind of emotion into it. The way he doesn’t know Heo Jae, and the way he wants to, and the way he desires him past that. He’s never been one to do things by half-measures. 

“You asked me to walk by your side,” Yihyun says against his mouth, barely a murmur, spoken directly against Heo Jae’s skin. “And I would, if you would let me.”

“This isn’t what I was talking about,” Heo Jae gasps. 

Yihyun pulls away from him.

“Are you turning me down?” He says, concern written into the fold between his brows, embarrassment starting to flush to the tips of his ears, and Heo Jae is damned already. 

“I don’t know if I could,” Heo Jae gets out, and he leans over to kiss Yihyun again. The table fits uncomfortably between them. It doesn’t matter in the least. Heo Jae’s worthless pride whines in protest, but the temptation of having what he wants presented to him willingly seems to be too much to bear.

\--

The next morning isn’t that awkward.

Yihyun wakes up on Heo Jae’s couch. He’s still in his clothes from the night before, his dress shirt crumpled and his grey slacks creased so badly he’ll need to send them to the dry cleaners. There’s a blanket over him that he doesn’t remember being in Heo Jae’s living room before.

“Are you awake?” Heo Jae says from the kitchen.

Yihyun rubs his eyes and sits up. His heart bumps once in his chest. Heo Jae walks towards him hesitantly, as though he’s not sure that Yihyun will remember the previous night, even though he hadn’t drank. Yihyun grabs him by the hand and pulls him to a seat beside him on the couch.

Heo Jae stills next to him.

“Do you still,” Heo Jae says, that undertone of vulnerability that Yihyun had been desperate to hear making his voice waver, “want this?”

In response, Yihyun lays his head on Heo Jae’s shoulder. It’s an odd thing to do to your boss, but it feels good, so Yihyun doesn’t deny himself. It feels better to do it this way than any other – if he had drank, he might have kissed Heo Jae out of frustration rather than anything else. Heo Jae might have rebuffed him, citing the alcohol, and continued to push him away. 

His mass of emotion has settled overnight. The only thing that’s occupying him is a dizzying, full-body satisfaction when he laces his fingers with Heo Jae’s, and Heo Jae lets him.

“Why don’t you have guest slippers?” Yihyun asks, after a moment.

Heo Jae looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t have people in my home often.” He says.

“Oh.” Yihyun says. He absently strokes the back of Heo Jae’s hand with his thumb. He would kiss him, but he hasn’t brushed his teeth.

Instead, he sits beside him. The comfortable silence threatens to engulf them. 

“Why didn’t you drive home last night?” Heo Jae says, after a moment. “You didn’t drink.”

“I thought you might pretend it didn’t happen.” Yihyun says.

“How could I?” Heo Jae says. He slowly, slowly relaxes into Yihyun’s side. It’s a nice feeling. 

“If you’ve trusted me for so long,” Yihyun says, even though it feels odd to speak openly to Heo Jae like this, “why wouldn’t you share your doubts with me?”

Heo Jae laughs. The puff of air that comes from his chest is cynical, and it dissipates around them, making Yihyun want to press closer to him.

“Because I was afraid you would reject me for them,” Heo Jae replies, quietly, after a moment. “And I was afraid of them swallowing me if I chose to acknowledge them. How can a weak leader take control of a nation?”

Yihyun huffs with frustration. His grip on Heo Jae’s hand tightens. 

“A leader who can’t face is own doubts is weaker than one who does,” Yihyun says.

Heo Jae smiles.

“You’re probably right.” He says. “Lee Hyejoon is much better about that than I am.”

“She’s better than both of us,” Yihyun mutters. “But I want to be the one you trust.”

Heo Jae leans back into the couch cushions with a sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: me: stealing some lines of dialogue from the show bc i love their vibe
> 
> did not know how to end this but ive been sitting on it too long T-T
> 
> for a few days since the finale ive been Fixated on what yihyun said during the prison scene.. where he criticized heo jae (and himself) for doing things all by himself and trying to get others to support him by force but . i was like heo jae was starting to support his juniors and face his own weaknesses but yihyun didnt see most of it T-T idk how to explain it hopefully it kind of came across in this fic
> 
> twitter serpentinej tumblr leofemt


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